


To Be Safe

by ImprobableDreams900



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Bad Things Happen To Carlos, Carlos loves Science, M/M, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImprobableDreams900/pseuds/ImprobableDreams900
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil is about to head over to Carlos' lab to look at some new scientific equipment when he receives a strange text from his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Safe

When Cecil finally, begrudgingly, rolled out of bed in the morning, he was alone. There was a note on the nightstand (written in the scraggly letters that invariably resulted from using one of the wobbly not-pens Cecil had accumulated over the years) from Carlos saying that he'd gone off early to the lab and wishing him a nice day.

Cecil smiled to himself as he made his way into the kitchen, rooting around in the cupboards for something to eat. He had an intense craving for toast, but the ban on wheat and wheat by-products was still in effect and—unfortunately—actively enforced. He settled for some wheat-less crackers instead and began smearing them with a generous amount of Nutella. Carlos had recently introduced him to the delightful chocolate-hazelnut blend, and he was completely mystified as to how he had managed to live his life for so long without it.

Once he had finished his impromptu breakfast, he set about cleaning up the kitchen a little before he left for the studio. He'd have to clean up in there as well, because he was having Earl over tomorrow for his segment; he'd promised to cook sautéed brick cuttlefish with pomegranate vinaigrette. Considering the violent tendencies inherent in many pomegranates, he'd figured he ought to get all the breakables off his desk before the chef showed up.

It was approaching ten o'clock when Cecil finally left for the studio. It was a beautiful day; sparrows and wood larks were singing in the nearby trees, their elegant trills spiraling out into the cool morning air like streamers.

"Beautiful day, Geoffrey!" Cecil called in no particular direction, aiming his words at the Sheriff's Secret Police officer he knew always lurked outside his and Carlos' house. "I'll just be off to the studio now," he added in a loud and clear voice, and then turned his feet towards the direction he had indicated, deciding it was far too nice of a day to bother driving.

Once at the radio station, Cecil greeted his current interns, Penelope and Robert, with warm smiles and instructions to the latter to check out the strange glowing he'd seen outside the Russian Neo-Anglican mosque on Third Street on his way over.

Cecil had soon settled down at his desk in the studio and begun sorting through his papers. The show wasn't until that evening, but he'd have to write up the pieces before that. There was a news story about the latest PTA meeting and the fuss caused by the Glow Cloud—ALL HAIL—; a report from the Sheriff's office about incidents of theft by an unknown culprit paired with a statement from the City Council stating that the thief was definitely not a citizen of Night Vale, else their criminal intent would have appeared on the City Hall's Thought Monitors; an advertisement sponsored by the pheromone androstenol; the list went on and on.

Cecil had moved onto the pile of invoices on the corner of his desk and was in the middle of deciding which could be recycled and which needed to be turned into Station Management for eternal filing when Intern Penelope walked in.

She was wearing a black halter top with the NVCR logo on it, which made Cecil pause, because he hadn't been aware the new apparel line had been approved by the whispers in the break room yet. He'd have to see if they had a pajama set this time; it would match Carlos' Erlenmeyer flask-speckled one perfectly.

"I brought you some marmalade-flavored ice tea," she said, holding out a mug to him. That was the nice thing about interns; he never even had a chance to get thirsty.

"No coffee?" he asked as he accepted the mug gratefully.

She made a face. "The death-omen vipers got to it again. I'll work on exorcising them after lunch, when the bloodstones are most receptive."

Cecil nodded his approval and was about to suggest sating the serpents until then with garlic and chives, when his cell phone buzzed.

Cecil fished it out of his pocket as Penelope suddenly found something urgent to do in another room and went to do it.

Cecil saw it was Carlos calling, and felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he hit the 'accept call' button.

"How's my favorite scientist?" Cecil asked with a grin.

"Feeling especially scientific today," Carlos' oaky tones answered quickly. "I got my order for some new hardware for the lab in today, and it's all _very_ scientific."

Cecil felt himself smiling at the genuine excitement in his boyfriend's voice.

"There's a new set of microscope slides I ordered after my other set mysteriously turned up coated in black dust that wouldn't come off, and a proper high-frequency laser from a hospital in Boulder—it'll go up to 300 Joules at 1054 nanometers." Carlos' voice was higher than usual, and he sounded like he was about to die from happiness. "Do you realize how much this'll help with my experiments? If I can properly measure the speed of light here I might be able to understand why time doesn't work properly, and why time travel is possible!" Carlos gave an excited little gasp that was the most adorable sound Cecil had ever heard.

"So anyway—did you, um, want to come over and take a look over your lunch break? Then I was thinking we could go over to Big Rico's for our mandatory weekly visit." There was an uncertain pause. "Um, what do you think?" Carlos asked nervously.

"I think that sounds like a grand idea," Cecil replied smoothly, secretly delighted that, even with all of Carlos' new science toys to occupy his mind, he still wanted to spend time with Cecil.

"Oh, good!" Carlos replied, sounding a little relieved. "I missed you this morning; do you want me to cook tonight?"

"It's my turn, Carlos; you know that. I've got something new in mind."

Carlos gave a short, almost comic laugh that indicated he wasn't filled with confidence. "This isn't a recipe from Earl, is it?"

"Nah, it's one Old Woman Josie gave me a couple weeks back," Cecil assured him. "A little salt, a little pepper on the side—you'll love it, I promise."

"Uh-huh," Carlos said. "Well, I'll see you in a little bit, okay, sweetie?"

"Sure thing," Cecil leaned back in his chair, making sure his next words were as heartfelt as he always wanted them to be. "I love you."

He could almost hear the smile in Carlos' reply. "I love you too, honey. Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Cecil hung up and set his phone down on the desk, drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the hard wood surface.

He glanced back over the mess of papers on his desk and then at the watch Carlos had given him glinting on his wrist, wondering how early he could convince station management to release him for lunch.

He finally begrudgingly admitted to himself that he really did have to get through these invoices first, and sighed to himself as he reapplied himself to the task.

A little over an hour later, Cecil finally shuffled together the final stack of invoices to be given to station management and moved to rise from his chair. He didn't quite push the chair back as far as he should have, though, and only succeeded in knocking his kneecap hard into the side of his desk. He swore loudly and promptly dropped the pile of invoices all over the floor.

He was still half-kneeling on the carpet and trying to gather the pages together in some semblance of their previous order when his phone buzzed again.

Cecil reached back up to the desk and felt around for it. He located it and pulled it down, hoping for a text from Carlos and mildly disappointed to see it was only a notice from the Sheriff's Secret Police about the annual switch-everyone's-pills-and-medication event going into effect.

Cecil slipped the phone back into his pocket as he gathered up the last of the invoices and pushed himself to his feet.

He left the invoices in an unmarked black envelope outside station management's door and intoned the appropriate appeasing chants before backing away slowly, making sure to keep his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, as was custom.

It was about time to meet Carlos for lunch, so Cecil hastily popped into the break room and let Penelope know that he'd be back in an hour or so.

As he started out down the sidewalk, basking in the warmth of the sun on his shoulders and rolling his sleeves up as he went, he mentally ran through a list of ingredients he'd need to pick up that afternoon for the falafel he planned on making that night. The Middle Eastern dish wasn't one he'd made before, but he was confident that he could at least create a passable imitation from the recipe Old Woman Josie had given him.

He was passing the post office and the statue of immortal screen legend Lee Marvin (turning 30 this Saturday!) just outside it when his phone buzzed yet again.

Feeling particularly popular, Cecil paused, pulled it out of his pocket, and saw that it was, in fact, a text from Carlos. Cecil opened it and frowned. It read

I fniflg dghjk .

Cecil raised an eyebrow and typed in a simple "Carlos?" in reply. Perhaps Carlos had simply done the (far more scientific, of course) texting equivalent of butt-dialing. Of course, there was also the chance that he had been overcome by one of the mysterious vapors running around lately that temporarily changed one's native tongue into Unmodified Sumerian.

Cecil waited for a reply, but none came. He frowned at his phone. It was probably nothing. His eyes kept sliding over to the lone period hovering a space away from the rest of the text, thinking that even if Carlos _was_ typing in Unmodified Sumerian, his grammar would still have been impeccable.

He assured himself that everything was just fine—a scientist was always fine, after all—and, thoughts momentarily chased away, kept on walking, though maybe a little faster than before.

The lab soon came into view, and though this was usually the time in the familiar route that Cecil's thoughts grew less than chaste, today they were just a whir of worry and reprimands for worrying. He gained the sidewalk outside the lab and banished these distressing thoughts as best he could, trying to convince himself that Carlos had just missed his phone buzzing, or else had wandered to another part of the lab without his phone to look at his new equipment. That was all.

Cecil knocked a couple times, frantically, and waited impatiently for Carlos to answer.

When Carlos did not respond in the two tense seconds Cecil allotted him, he hastily opened the door and let himself in.

"Carlos?" he said quickly, trying to keep the strain out of his voice.

The lab was deserted. A bundle of boxes was piled near the door, the cardboard containers open and empty, their contents of equipment and packing materials scattered over the floor and on the surfaces of nearby lab tables.

There was no sign of Carlos. No—there! Someone was straightening up behind one of the lab tables about halfway down. Cecil hastened forward even as he realized with sinking spirits that it wasn't Carlos.

She—it was a she, he saw now—was turning towards him. From her black leggings, bullet proof vest, and grenade-filled belt, he saw that she was a Sheriff's Secret Police officer. Despite the black wool balaclava concealing her features, Cecil recognized her immediately as Rhonda, the officer assigned to monitor Carlos' lab and the adjacent Big Rico's.

"Cecil, thank the gods! I found him like this just a minute ago—"

Cecil felt his blood turn to ice as he hurried forward and shouldered past her, brushing her sweater as his eyes dropped to the floor and saw what the lab table had previously blocked from view.

Carlos was lying unconscious on the tile, his lab coat spread around him. There was no visible wound, but as Cecil dropped to his knees beside the scientist, he could see that Carlos was shaking all over, and his breaths were coming in hitching, irregular bursts.

"I think it was a poison of some sort," Rhonda explained from above him. "There was a bottle of Tylenol on the counter, but I don't think he realized the annual switch-everyone's-pills-and-medications event had gone into effect, and he must have gotten something much stronger, and probably prescribed to a non-human—"

Cecil registered her words only dimly, his hands fluttering over Carlos' chest, one reaching up to his neck to check for a pulse, praying for a steady heartbeat to drum against his fingers.

"I called an ambulance from Night Vale General," Rhonda continued, oblivious to Cecil's private anguish. "It should be here in under a minute."

Cecil felt only a faint, clipped throb under his fingers; it was weak and erratic, but at least it was a heartbeat. At the gentle touch of Cecil's hand on his cheek, Carlos' head turned slightly to the side and he took a sharp intake of breath; Cecil could see his eyes darting back and forth under his eyelids in agitation.

"He was partially conscious when I found him," Rhonda said gently. "He was a mess, kept trying to call you—"

Cecil saw the phone now, lying dark and motionless in the palm of Carlos' limp hand. Cecil bit back a sob as he heard Rhonda shift uncertainly behind him.

"How about I go help flag down the ambulance? Yell if you need anything."

Then Rhonda was gone, and it was just him and Carlos, the latter now shaking violently under Cecil's inexpert hands.

"Carlos, Carlos, I'm here, I'm right here. The ambulance will be here soon—under a minute, that's not long, come on, you can last that long." Cecil realized he was gripping Carlos' shirt so tightly his knuckles were white. With a great effort, he forced his hands to relax, which only enabled him to feel the erratic thumping of Carlos' heart through his ribs. Its pattern fluctuated wildly, jumping from tiny, faint beats to large, painful-feeling ones that shook Carlos' whole body and made his head turn over.

Cecil moved his hand from over Carlos' heart back to his neck, keeping it there as he nervously stroked the scientist's beautiful hair out of his face with the other.

"Carlos, just hang on. It'll be okay; it'll be just fine, just stick with me, Carlos, okay?" Cecil realized he was crying, and sniffed it away as he stroked the side of Carlos' face. Cecil took a deep, shuddering breath, leaned closer, and kissed Carlos gently on the lips, hoping to at least help regulate the scientist's irregular breathing.

It seemed to work for a couple of breaths, and then Carlos abruptly stopped responding beneath him.

Cecil pulled back just as he realized that Carlos' pulse had vanished from under his fingers.

"Carlos? Carlos—no, no, gods no—breathe, Carlos, please, you need to breathe—"

He was crying again, searching desperately for even the faintest trace of a pulse under Carlos' beautiful jaw, praying for the impossible.

Feeling utterly helpless, Cecil leaned down and locked Carlos' lips with his own again, pushing all the air in his lungs into Carlos'. When he pulled back, he heard the weak wheeze of Carlos' exhale, and simultaneously felt the faintest beat of a pulse under his fingers.

"Carlos! Hold on, hold on, please," Cecil begged, his entire being focused on praying for the next uncertain beat.

Carlos living was all that mattered; it mattered more than the distant sound of the ambulance pulling up outside; mattered more than the frantic hammering in Cecil's own chest.

Cecil leaned over and breathed more oxygen into Carlos' starving lungs.

Beat.

He just wanted to be safe again, wanted Carlos to be safe, more than anything else in the world.

Beat.

How do you become safe?

 

Beat.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you hadn't figured it out:
> 
> "The Sheriff’s Secret Police is issuing an urgent message to all citizens. Attention all citizens. Memorize this list. Memorize it now. It will not now, or ever, be repeated. Memorize this list for your safety and protection. We cannot tell you when or where you will need to know it but when you do, you will be safe. Here is the list. Memorize now.
> 
> Hazelnut, Mystify, Cuttlefish, Lark, Lurk, Robert, Anglican, Pheromone, Halter top, Marmalade, Hardware, Laser, Pepper, Release, Kneecap, Falafel, Period, Chased, Chaste, Leggings, Wool, Sweater, Heartbeat, Heartbeat, Heart, Beat, Heart, Beat, Beat, Beat, Beat, Beat.
> 
> Memorize that list, citizens, in order.Secret Police warn that if you miss even one word, or transpose a couple of words like ‘lurk’ and 'lark’ there could be unpleasant consequences. This has been a special announcement from the Sheriff’s Secret Police." (Episode 16)
> 
> EVERY SINGLE ONE, dear citizens, EVERY SINGLE ONE and IN ORDER! *throws down pen in triumph*
> 
> Let me know in the comments when/if you figured it out!
> 
> (Also, in case anyone was wondering, the pills Carlos took were filled with quinidine, which is used to regulate the heartbeat and if taken unnecessarily is very poisonous.)


End file.
